Vacation Rhythms

An Inkling

It’s good to be back.  Of course a week ago it was good to be leaving.  And that’s how it’s supposed to be.

Sarah and I greatly enjoyed our week away.  We went to the Outer Banks, and on the way home stopped for a couple of days with one of our daughters, whose husband is deployed with the Navy, and their two  children.

Here’s what we did while apart from ordinary schedules and demands:

• We got caught up with each other at length – something that happens only in snippets during ordinary weeks.
• We walked on the beach.
• We took long bike rides, relishing the flowers in their full spring glory.
• We read.  I caught up on five months of Christianity Today – what a stellar magazine.
• We did some on-line tutorials on editing videos.
• I researched family lines on ancestry.com.  It was fun getting one line back to the 11^th century, and mapping where these ancestors lived.
• We checked out historical sights – like the one pictured here with Sarah.
• We slept without alarm clocks.
• We decided each day what to do, since we had no schedules dictating to us.
• And we played with our grandchildren!

Actually the Lord has provided that we have a day each week marked by that kind of freedom – a sabbath.  But periodically we also need some gathered sabbath days.  Thank you, St. Giles, for the gift of a week apart.

I’m looking forward to seeing you all!

Blessings,

Keith

A Blessing to Carry Beyond Easter

An Inkling

Over the years I’ve taken up various disciplines during Lent:  fasting a day a week, or giving up news, or sweets, or caffeine.  The rationale is that when you give up something good in order to focus on something better you make space for God to bless in ways you can’t predict or prompt.

And I could not have predicted or prompted the blessings coming with this year’s discipline.  This year I’m fasting from using every spare moment to read news and editorials on my iPhone, and instead using those moments to pray the Psalms.  I have a Bible on my phone, so it’s just as handy as the latest on the internet.

Here’s what I’ve given up – a habit developed over time and without design.  I enjoy keeping up with the news and stimulating the ol’ gray matter with diverse perspectives.  My phone has provided a means of doing so whenever a spare moment pops up.  And I have.  And it has become a habit.  That’s the habit I’ve given up for Lent.

And here’s the practice I’ve taken up – praying the Psalms in those same spare moments, in a waiting room, on an airplane, or waiting to meet a friend.  I pull out the ol’ phone and commence praying where I left off.  Now in the fifth week of Lent, I’ve prayed through the Psalms once, and am making my way through again.

It has meant that I’m not as well informed moment to moment, but somehow that has not totally wrecked my life!  And it has meant that I am better attuned moment to moment to the One who makes the news that matters most, and whose opinion pieces aren’t just opinion.  That has proven to be a very happy trade.

I’ll have to find some other ways to keep up with the latest, for I think this Lenten plan will last beyond Easter.  I’ve just begun to discover the blessings of praying the prayers that were dear to Jesus in a more constant way.

How about you?  How is God blessing you in ways beyond your own planning and prompting?  And might you find a way to make the Psalms part of your own prayers?

Blessings,

Keith

Blossoms in Barren Places

An Inkling

Saturday I returned home from a two-week trip to England and central Asia.  The sights of new places are always fascinating – buildings and landscapes.  But they can’t compete with the people.  I’m still pondering in particular on some pastors I met. 

In England I met Paul and Brian at a conference on the Holy Spirit.  They labor with faithfulness and joy in a Presbyterian denomination that is a theological and institutional shell of its former self.  The vibrant presence of the Spirit in them is all the more striking because of the spiritually bleak place where they live.

In central Asia I met Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.  (I’ll not use their real names on the internet, lest association with me imperil them in their repressive land.)  Their place of service is even more spiritually barren than Paul and Brian’s.  The long shadows of the Soviet era still linger, along with the even longer shadows of a pervasive Islamic national identity.  Yet these men and their churches are filled with a joy and vitality that shout the glories of the Lord.  It was a great privilege just to keep company with them.

I returned to Richmond just as the spring flowers are budding.  One of the reasons I love it here is that Virginia is so verdant.  Blossoming trees and vast flowerbeds surround us, offering an endless feast for the eyes.

Yet there is a special beauty to blossoms in barren places.  Their colors and forms stand out all the more for being in such stark settings.  The pastors I met on this trip stand out in just such a way.  The Lord is never without his witnesses.  And it is beautiful to behold.

Blessings,

Keith

Saying Grace

An Inkling

I’ll never forget the blessing at the family reunion.  One of the men began to say grace.  And he said grace.  And he said grace.  Finally, right in the middle of one of his sentences, a little boy shouted, “Amen!”  And that was the end of that!

All of us have had some funny “saying grace” experiences.  Kids say the darndest things, adults say the most inane things, and all the while most of us are thinking about what we’re going to eat first.  How can we best “say grace?”

First there’s the matter of length.  Some saints love to pray at length.  So they use the table grace to thank God for each family blessing since 1947, work their way through to Aunt Minnie’s rheumatism, and wind up praying for the economy.  All the while the food is cooling, the cook is heating, and everyone is longing for that precious word, “Amen.”  How long should the prayer be?  Long enough to thank God for the occasion, the company, the cook, and the food.  When it comes to table grace, less is more.

Then there’s the matter of occasion.  In many homes grace is occasional, unless the religious kinfolk or the minister are visiting.  You can recognize such homes because the kids are half way through their meal by the time you sit down, and are baffled when the red-faced parent asks, “Why are you eating before we pray?”  The Kingdom of God will not be hindered if we miss a table grace.  But if we truly want to follow the scripture’s encouragement to pray at all times, this is a simple way to prime the pump.  And besides, those who thank God for the food find it harder to complain about the food!

Then there is the matter of what to say.  Many speak some form of “Bless this food to our bodies and us to thy service.”  I have never thought that it made much sense to ask God to bless food that is obviously good already.  I generally trust the cook to bless the food, and so I thank God for providing it.  However, sometimes I have found it necessary to bless the food itself – like when I’m the cook or when someone serves liver. 

We are richly blessed, and God is worthy of every “thank you” we offer.  Saying grace is one good way to do so.  Don’t miss your chance. 

Let us pray,

Keith

What's In a Name?

An Inkling

Back in the days of swelling bellies and approaching due dates, Sarah and I would have long conversations about names.  We never could agree on boys’ names, other than that we would not have a Keith Jr., with the inevitable modifiers Big and Little.

As it turned out, we didn’t need to agree on boys' names.  We were privileged to launch three daughters into this world, all of whom have family names.

So I never imagined there would ever be another Keith in the family.  But since Friday there is.  Davis Keith Hood was born to Dorothy and Brandon, and they plan to call him Keith.

His name was almost a foregone conclusion – his dad, paternal grandfather, and maternal grandfather (me) all have Keith as a middle name.  The boy was going to be tagged Keith one way or the other.

I still don’t know what I think of this, but it is great fun.  And I did notice that he has bigger muscles than any other newborn I’ve ever seen.  I know of no other explanation than the name.

Since some of my more questionable traits were planted by my maternal grandfather (see my Feb. 10 blog), I have to hope that this grandfather won’t have too bad an effect on his namesake grandson.  Rather, if new Keith can see even a glimmer of God’s grace in old Keith, I’ll be satisfied.  That and maybe a bit of mischief for good measure…

Welcome New Keith!

Old Keith